The Heirs
by TheLastChiBlocker
Summary: It has been decades since Zuko and Aang ended The Hundred Year War. However their descendants now inherit not only their parents' legacies but also their struggles. Will Zahara successfully ascend the Fire Nation throne? Can Yang rebuild a nearly extinct race? Is Urzon forever fated to live under the shadow of his protege sister? Will Gyatsa discover a new form of bending? OC/OC
1. Chapter 1

_Kick. _She executed the move with perfect grace, her leg straight and strong. _Step_. With one foot slightly forward she lunged into a traditional firebending stance. _Breath. _She inhaled deeply, quickly expelling short white flames of fire from her nostrils. _Punch._ Her dominant hand flew forward, a hot fire blast shooting from it. _Kick._ She raised her leg again, this time an arc of flames following in her foot's wake. _Step…_

She continued her movements. Each blast stronger, each flame hotter. She appeared so comfortable with the exercise that it flowed effortlessly, a deadly fire dance. Her golden eyes glinted with determination, determination that fueled her fire and pushed her body to endure the pain of the endless movements. She was completely enraptured, so focused on her bending that she did not notice the man standing by the doorway.

His matching golden eyes watched her with pride. They resembled hers completely if not for the scar that covered one of them. The burnt flesh surrounding the eye was a dull pink that marked that it had been years perhaps decades since it had been burned onto his face.

A topknot rested on his head, the hair fine and black with a few streaks of gray that rather than hinting of age, hinted of a great stress he had once endured. A stress much more substantial than that of the continuing fire bending exercises he was watching his daughter now endure.

He wore the garb of royalty, as did she. Her clothing was armored, and lined with gold. His was similar if not more ornate. In both of their hair were golden hairpieces, single flames that held their topknots in place.

He continued to watch her movements. His expression flickered from one of pride to one of love. Finally, he raised a hand towards her and called out.

"Zahara, you've had enough practice for so early in the morning."

She looked towards him without surprise, her lips forming a quarter smile.

"Father, it was you who said firebenders rise with the sun."

"And they do." He paused, grinning, "But not on the day that honored guests arrive. You need rest or you'll fall asleep during the dinner tonight."

She shrugged in slight agreement, "Ok, maybe I've had enough for today." Assenting, she brushed the light sweat from her forehead and began to stretch her left leg against a wall.

"When will the Avatar arrive?"

"In an hour or so," her father answered.

She nodded, "And will Master Bei Fong accompany him?"

"_Toph_ will be with him, " he said, emphasizing the name, "don't call her Master of anything, it makes her feel old." He grinned, adding, "You will find yourself under a pile of rocks in less than a second."

"I'd like to see her try," Zahara muttered.

"There are times when such arrogance can be mistaken for confidence or even courage, " her father commented, "if anyone who has had less then a life time of bending training thinks they can best her in a fight, they are foolish." He gave her a stern look. She huffed slightly, smoke blowing out of her nostrils.

"It has been too long since your mother and I have seen our old friends, I expect that you will welcome them and their children as guests in the palace," he said, motioning around him. She nodded, a silent promise.

"Will Gyatsa and Yang come as well?" she questioned, brushing a strand of hair back nonchalantly.

Her father nodded with a chuckle. Patting her on the arm, he said, "Go get clean and meet your brother in the formal chamber," he paused, "you have an hour."

With that he left, his red robes flowing behind him as he swiftly exited the training room that was connected to her quarters.

She shook her head, trying to rid it of its nerves. Sitting down cross-legged she attempted to do her breathing exercises but even that failed. Eventually leaning against a wall of the room she rested her head on her knees, trying to make sense of her thoughts, and the foreign sensation of her jackhammering heart.

_She hadn't seen him in years, though the time apart made it feel substantially longer. He was nearing eighteen, as was she. In a few months time she would be officially presented as Princess of the Fire Nation, heir to the throne. In a few months time he would - what would he be doing in a few months time?_

Zahara shook her head as she mulled over his carefree life. _He was an air bender, one of the few the world had seen in over a century. He divided his time between the air temples, attempting to rebuild a civilization that had been proclaimed extinct long ago_. The more she thought about him, the more she realized there was little she truly knew about Yang.

Butterflies batted around inside her stomach, the sensation foreign but not all together unpleasant. She knew what her body was saying yet she chose to ignore it and continued her thoughts.

_She had only ever been alone with Yang twice. Once when she was a wisp of a girl, a six year old learning to control her inner fire. He had sat next to her in the Royal Garden and taught her an ancient breathing technique. She had at first been skeptical. But as his little hands reached out and helped her achieve the stance, she began to feel aware of everything in the surrounding clearing. The quaking of the turtle ducks in the pond, the light breeze murmuring, the boy next to her, and the erratic beating of heart. She had always wondered if he had noticed it and conceded that if he had he was too kind to embarrass her by mentioning it. _

Zahara stood up, and after stretching slightly, walked into her room. She sat in front of her large mirror, gazing at the reflection. Shaking her head in frustration, she removed the topknot from her head. Her hair cascaded downward, long thick black strands that framed her aristocratic face: high cheekbones, slightly pursed lips, and the trade mark golden eyes of fire nation royalty. She felt ugly and she felt vain for even bothering to look at her self in such a way. Frowning, she blew a strand of hair from her face. Instantly a white flame shot out and burnt the piece of hair. She sighedin annoyance. Plucking the strand of burnt hair, she tossed it out the window where it was carried away by the breeze.

Still feeling antsy from her talk with her father, Zahara perched herself on the open windowsill and stared out at the fire nation capital; her city and the center of the kingdom she would one day rule. She never felt nervous when she reflected on the position she would inevitably inherit from her father. She was ready to serve her country and ready to, if the time every came, truly lead them. Her legs dangled out of the window. The slight breeze that tickled them relaxed her. She loved the view from her room, looking over all the burnt red roofs of the capital. Her love of heights only increased with each time she sat here.

_That was the second time, they where both awkward teenagers. Yang had sat next to her on this very sill, taken her hand, and told her of his home in the Air Temples. She had listened intently to his light voice as it wove images of places far beyond the Fire Nation. _Zahara smoothed her royal outfit as she thought.

_She had once craved a life such as his, but now, as her coronation loomed, she had accepted that just as he was born to bend air and she fire, he had been born to live the life of a nomad and her of Fire Lady. _She brushed her hair from her face, the wind blowing it this way and that. As she continued to think, she held a small white flame in her hand, its heat a small comfort and an old friend.

_She still remembered what he had said to her as they gazed at the view, "There are millions of people in this city, no matter how many times I tell myself otherwise, I somehow know there must be an airbender out there." His determined expression made her know that he had officially adopted that quest, the quest to reestablish his people. It was also the day she knew she would lose him to his travels. Yet had she ever had him in the first place?_

She continued to gaze off into the distance, eventually noticing the flying bison that soared over the city and landed in front of the stone walls of the palace. She looked once more at her nervous reflection. After carefully repining her topknot, she walked out of the room, reasoning with herself that it had been four years and that he had all but forgotten her.

Eventually reaching the door to the formal chamber, a guard acknowledged her politely and let her in. Upon seeing her brother waiting besides their father's throne, she waved half-heartedly at him and took a place on the right of the Fire Lord. Urzon seemed excited to see his old friends, although he was very obviously feigning boredom. At least the antics of her younger brother amused her. Maybe Yang's return hadn't completely up rooted her world, as much as it felt like it had.


	2. Chapter 2

Urzon grinned knowingly as his older sister hugged Yang, he knew she had waited far too long to see him again. Zahara would never admit how much she wished Yang had said good-bye, yet Urzon knew.

He winked at Gyatsa. They both understood what this moment meant to their siblings. Motioning for the airbender to follow, he walked out of the hall.

"Have you been at the air temples these past years?"

"I have," Gyatsa responded, she motioned towards her blue tattoes, "I am an airbending master now."

"Took long enough," Urzon teased. Gyatsa was only fifteen, they both knew that to be a master at that age was incredible.

"And Yang?" he questioned, smoothing his robes in an attempt at nonchalance.

"Yang's been…" she paused, "soul searching, I suppose."

"But I thought he was searching for airbenders," Urzon stated, frowning.

"And he was, in fact he's even found some," she shook her head, "but I think he's not feeling as satisfied as he thought he might,"

"It will take centuries for the air nomads to repopulate, not a couple years," she continued, "I don't think Yang really thought about that when he started searching."

"But how many airbenders did he find," Urzon asked, "and how?"

"There are about twenty air benders that resided in parts of the Earth Kingdom-many didn't know that they were benders originally," Gyatsa replied, "It appears as if some monks were able to flee the air temples, or were just not there when the invasion happened. They settled in the Earth Kingdom and raised families."

"But that's amazing," Urzon said," A race thought to be nearly extinct now has a chance of survival!"

"Yes, but Yang, " she trailed off, "his part in that story is over, he's found them but my father and I are training them." Gyatsa continued, "he still searches for airbenders, but he's also been taking some time off to travel alone. Yang has changed. He is not the naïve twelve-year-old boy he once was. He has traveled the world, heard stories of the horrors of war, and even experienced some of these horrors firsthand."

Urzon frowned, he couldn't imagine Yang as anything else but the calm and sweet boy he had been. _What had Yang really been up to? _

"Your parents are in the throne room. I'm supposed to be at a lesson right now but I will see you at dinner, " Urzon stated, his voice rising as he told the fib.

Gyatsa nodded, "of course."

This wasn't a complete lie, he did need to practice his bending, and ok, maybe it helped that the only time he could really clear his head and think was when he fire bent.

Urzon waved and left the room, his feet almost subconsciously taking him to the train rooming adjoined to his quarters.

When he had reached the room, he removed his shirt, leaving on only his billowy black pants. He shook his hair out, pushing it from his face. Ready, he began the movements with precision. _Jump_. He executed a leap forward, falling into a lung position. _Turn_. He swiveled around half way. _Breath._ He took in air, blowing it out forcefully. _Hit_. A fork of lightening illuminated the room as it shot out in front of him. _Jump_. He moved forward again, this time somersaulting after the jump and landing in a crouched position. With his right hand he sent another bolt in front. _Breath. _He inhaled this time miniature forks of lightening flickered around his nostrils as he exhaled. _Turn…_

"Urzon?" A worried voice came from behind him.

He had been so busy executing his bending that he had not noticed his motherat the doorway. She looked at him carefully, her blue eyes wide and brown hair tied back formally for dinner.

"It is time to get ready," She informed him. She pulled a stream of water from one of the vases in the room, the water circling tightly in her hand. She did this frequently just as his sister lit small flames in her palm to calm her.

Urzon nodded towards his mother, and grabbing his shirt from the floor began to head towards his quarters.

She was left behind in the training room, the cool water still circling in her palm. She shook her head, amazed at how the much the sixteen-year-old boy who had just left the room looked like his father. Urzon thankfully had been spared the scar that Zuko had and yet their golden eyes, pale skin, hair were almost identical. Her children had inherited little physical resemblance to her, their skin maybe a shade darker and hair a bit thicker. Instead she liked to think that Urzon had inherited her kindness, her love of bending and Zahara her occasional temper tantrums and her drive.

Katara was proud of her children and what they had accomplished in bending. Where their joints were young and fresh, hers were beginning to creek with age. Almost angrily she whipped the water she was bending forward. Freezing it, and letting it drop to the ground with a crash.

But she was content with her life. She and Zuko were no longer teenagers traveling around the nations and fighting a war. But they were parents, monarchs, and lovers, these three roles she found as satisfying as any adventure she and her friends had had. Although they were aging, there bodies not the adolescent ones they used to have, nevertheless they were still happy and in love. The Fire Nation was stable and the world no longer at war. Katara knew she had done her part to make it this way. Her destiny had almost finished unfolding and now, as her daughter reached her eighteenth birthday, it was Zahara's time to decide her future.

Katara smoothed back her formal gown, the red silk soft under her fingers. She felt a gentle hand on her waist. Laughing, she leaned back into her husband's strong arms. She sighed, slightly nuzzling her head against his chest and inhaling the scent of spice and smoke that he had.

"Katara, my dear, would you go to the formal dinner with me?" He bent down in a mock proposal.

"I would be delighted to," she responded, leaning towards him for a kiss. Their lips met for a long minute before Zuko pulled back.

"About that dinner."

Katara looked around guiltily, "I suppose we should go."

He took her hand, and led her out of the room and down the hall.

"I never got to tell you how beautiful you look tonight," he said sweetly as they stood in front of the door leading into the dining hall. She squeezed his hand and opened the door.

As they entered they saw many familiar faces, near the head of the table was their son who sat next to Gyatsa and was chatting animatedly with her. On the other side of the table, Toph was talking to her son, the young air bending throwing looks at Zahara as she remained in deep discussion with Aang. The Fire Lord and Lady sat at the head of the table welcoming their guests and signaling that the feast had begun.


	3. Chapter 3

Zuko was proud of his lineage and responsibility to maintain peace. There were few times in which Zuko wished he did not bear the burden of Fire Lord. But as he sat in lotus position on the high throne, his hair pulled back into a high topknot and clothing stiff and heavy, he longed for nothing more than to be in the loose travel robes he wore so often in his youth.

With the arrival of the Avatar, memories of their adventures flitted about his mind. A part of him wished they could have forever travelled the world and brought with them peace and balance. Aang and Toph both led busy lives, teaching their respective elements. He knew Katara missed them dearly; sometimes he would find her sitting on a balcony of the lofty palace. She would remain there silently and gaze at the star-studded sky, remembering the a thousand nights she had spent sleeping under it. Zuko knew she was happy as Fire Lady and that the people loved their exotic monarch, but he wished that he could provide his wife with more freedom. More chances for her to see Sokka, who was busy frantically reinforcing the Southern Water Tribe as their new chieftain.

The telltale whistle of glider began to sound in the distance. Soon after, Aang flew into the throne room and settled on the ground. His tattooed head bowed down as he kneeled before the Fire Lord.

"Rise, old friend," Zuko laughed as he stood up and brushed off his imperial robes.

Aang grinned, "Zuko, it is so good to see you again," he paused, surveying the palace, "how long has it been? 4 years since i've been here?"

Zuko nodded, "Yes, though I have seen Toph since then."

"Yang and I have been travelling the world in search of lost air nomads, "he said, " the work is tireless, with no time for dear friends."

As Aang moved towards him, it was apparent how tired he looked. The last time Zuko remembered him looking this weary was before the defeat of Ozai decades ago. "No need to provide excuses, Aang, I know that you are busy," he smiled, " being the Avatar is hard work."

"So is being the firelord," Aang added, as he pointed at the row of towering portraits – of Sozin, Azulon, Ozai, and countless others who gazed down at them proudly. Their faces provided a constant reminder of the dignity of his people; the power of his lineage, the power to bring about both great good and great evil.

"Yes, but the fire nation is enjoying a rare stretch of peace since my father's fall," Zuko reasoned, "I have had to retract many colonies from the Earth Kingdom but for the most part I have had an easy time of it."

The Avatar formed a ball of air, which he glided on as he spoke, "We've grown, the two of us. The gray streaks suit you, Zuko."

The Fire Lord laughed, shaking his head, "You're still the same to me," he paused, "but with more wrinkles."

"I think the wrinkles are more from fatherhood than my Avatar duties," Aang said.

"As are mine – I never would have guessed that I would be father." He shook his head.

"I know, you were always an angsty one," Aang joked, dodging a swipe from his friend, "How Katara agreed to marrying you is beyond me."

Zuko shook his head. It was good to see the Avatar once again. "I feel like my work as a parent is easy. Zahara has always been rather serious, sometimes I think she would be just fine without me. Urzon has more of his Uncle Sokka's," he paused," humor."

"Yang is similar to your daughter, always searching, never resting and enjoying the turtleducks around him," Aang said, "Sometimes I forget he is still so young, but I suppose we were much like them at that age - governed by some higher purpose."

Zuko nodded, "They're only approaching eighteen, the two of them."

"Yes, but for Yang and Zahara that means adulthood, " Aang commented, "It makes me feel like an old foggy." He grinned as he stretched his worn limbs.

Zuko's laughter ceased as he though of his daughter and of her future. "As my friend, but also as the Avatar, I feel as if you should know something," he stated seriously.

"And what is that," Aang questioned, a more serious expression arising on his seemingly forever youthful features.

"As you know," he began, "Zahara's coronation as princess of the Fire Nation is approaching."

Aang nodded," And?"

"I plan to name her as my heir, officially and before all the fire nation nobles," Zuko whispered," And to step down as Fire Lord."

Aang stared hard at his friend, trying to remain calm. "But you are young! Why the hurry? Surely being Fire Lord isn't too much of a pain," he replied.

"You and I both remember what happens when a successor, ungroomed, takes the throne after the death of the Fire Lord," Zuko stated.

"But that was Ozai!" Aang proclaimed, "Zahara is of a purer spirit than your sister. She takes after her mother in that way." He added, "Yes, she is ambitious, much like Azula –"

"Zahara is nothing like my sister. Nor will she ever be," Zuko coldly interrupted.

"Forgive me," Aang replied, "I am only saying that she has inherited your lineage's finest qualities: ambition, charisma, and an unparalled strength in firebending," he continued," but that she has the compassion and optimism of your wife, my dear friend. It is the balance that will make her successful."

Zuko stepped forward. "Certainly, I am confident in her abilities. I simply want to be there as she transitions into the position." He sighed, "I will not make any of my ancestors mistakes."

"Very well," Aang nodded, sensing that argument with Zuko was futile at this point. He wanted his friend to be happy, and if that meant allowing his daughter to assume the throne, so be it. Zahara was skilled enough for this position, of that he had no doubt.

"With this change will come great responsibility for her. I know she is ready but nevertheless I worry that she is too young," Zuko muttered. He shook his head, "it must be done."

"Soon all the men of the four nations will want her hand in marriage," Aang added, laughing, "that is what you should be worried about."

Zuko's smile faltered as he said, "I do not want a single boy ruining my daughter, let alone a whole trove begging for her hand in marriage."

"You have nothing to worry about, "Aang soothed, " Zahara is smart, smarter than you were at that age," he added with a wink.

"I suppose you're right," Zuko sighed, "you usually are."

"And you have grown far wiser for admitting that, " Aang agreed.

Yes, he was happy old friends had returned, even if his duties as Fire Lord that loomed above him were soon to loom above his young daughter. She would be powerful; this he knew. How he wished his father were here to see how peaceful the Fire Nation could be and could remain.


End file.
